


I'll be there for you

by gentianblue (orphan_account)



Series: You're mine, I'm yours [2]
Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Knotting, Long-Distance Relationship, Love, M/M, Marking, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:54:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gentianblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mario got into heat during training after the second match against Barcelona. The aftermaths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up longer than I thought it would. :D  
> Have fun, dear readers!

 

 

The past year has been really hard for Mario in all the possible ways. First of all, everybody expected him to grow up to this ‘golden boy’ status and be the biggest star of his club. Second, not only his performance was questionable, but in the recent weeks – months? – the team played poorly too. The BVB fans still hate him and the Bayern fans haven’t quite warmed up to him yet and he doesn’t find his place. Of course the frustration takes its toll mostly on his relationship, his long-distance fucking rollercoaster of a relationship that’s marred with ill-timed injuries and media vultures’ nasty plays.

So he broke up with Marco. Exactly a week ago, after that awful first match against Barcelona. He hates himself for doing it in the first place, but it’s even worse that he has done it on the phone. The argument started with Mario’s unnecessary whining about missing the CL final, went on with Marco telling him to _shut the fuck up, BVB has almost gotten relegated_ , and ended with Marco yelling and Mario crying that this must be the end now.

The falling-out affected him pretty badly, he has even had a tantrum one evening and has thrown out all his heat suppressants and birth-control pills, saying he won’t need them anyway. And today he had to realise that it was the biggest possible stupidity, because apparently it didn’t take more than a few days and his long-time denied heat is coming on strong.

At least he was lucky with his training pair. Robert is his favourite beta, always so level-headed. Mario would rather not think about the possible outcomes if he had been with Arjen or, God forbid, Frank. He got out of training after a brief talk with Pep and miraculously made it back home, though he has no memories about the drive, which is quite frightening.

Now he’s lying flat on his back in his bed with a pillow on his face, cursing everything and everyone who comes into his mind. He needs a knot. In this moment that the heat is full-blown, leaving all those healthy males on the pitch seems like the worst idea ever. He could have asked them, _begged_ for them to bend him over and stuff him, maybe even the betas would have joined in and… _No, shit, get it together._

His neighbours are nice, maybe they will help. This is an absolute emergency, Mario has never had a heat so strong for… okay, in his entire life. He should have taken a break from the suppressants during the winter holidays. He should have. This is his punishment for it, great. His body is sweat-slicked and on fire, the blood is pounding down, down through his veins and into his cock, which is hard again. After four times of jerking off, God, there’s no way for him to get out of this on his own.

 

The guy called Michael across the street is a nice, handsome alpha, even with a hair as blonde as Marco’s, therefore Mario goes to him. Michael greets him with a wide smile that quickly drops and he grips the doorframe as Mario’s smell reaches his nose.

“What the fuck, Mario, you’re in heat.”

“You don’t say!”

“Go back home.”

“I need help.” Mario _needs it_ , he doesn’t care that his voice is close to hysteric by now _._

“No way, I won’t touch you with a single a finger. You reek of _‘taken’_ pheromones, are you aware of that?”

But he has broken up with Marco.  “What?”

“Your alpha must be close, just go home and he will help.”

“No, no, he’s in Dortmund…” Michael must smell something else, Marco should be at least in the town for Mario to ooze those pheromones.

“Are you sure?”

There’s a very familiar Aston Martin turning into his driveway and Mario gapes, this can’t be… What the hell? The car stops and it’s Marco who gets out of it, gorgeous as ever in tight pants and a leather jacket and Mario’s in _heat_. There’s a present in Marco’s hands, he must have come to apologise and of course Mario’s body had to know he’s coming, he must have gotten into heat just for Marco, for his alpha. _Fuck, no_. A heatwave rushes through Mario, making slick trickling out of him, and he must be in a cloud of sweetness judged by Michael’s swearing under his breath.

Marco takes a few steps on the way between his car and the house before he spectacularly tumbles in his own legs. His hand runs up to his mouth and the little box drops to the ground. So he smelled it.

“I… I’m going” Mario’s not sure whether he has actually excused himself or not, he doesn’t give a fuck about it right now.

He practically runs back to his own house, straining with the effort of not jumping Marco right this second and ripping his clothes off. His mind and body are no longer his owns, they’re Marco’s to do what he wants with them, just do it, Mario doesn’t want anything else. _No._ Mario shakes his head as clear as it can be now. He’s still angry with Marco and a stupid heat won’t replace an apology - a thorough one at that – Mario won’t let his hormones take away his pride.

Marco spots him and is growling even before Mario comes five meters close. “Sunny, Sunny baby…”

Mario stops right where he is and clenches his jaw, barely focusing on keeping his control. He smells Marco’s scent, the pure, unadulterated sex and arousal, and he can only think about the fact that they can have sex even with him being fertile because Marco’s taking pills too for extra caution.

Somehow he still gets out a comprehensible sentence. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to…” Marco gulps and takes a step closer. “...to apologise for what I’ve said. But seems like I need to take care of my omega other ways.”

Now he’s in reaching distance and Mario trembles when Marco raises his hands.

“Do not touch me!” He spits out, but oh, his body says otherwise.

Marco’s nostrils flare and he grabs Mario’s arms so hard it hurts. “I’m your alpha and I will touch you whenever I want to.”

“I’m not your mate, we broke up.” Mario tries, but it’s weak, he has lost all his strength from Marco’s alpha voice.

“Only your fucking pride thinks that. But your body knows the drill.” Those hungry eyes are burning into Mario’s as Marco leans even closer. “It knows your alpha is here.”

 

 

Mario efficiently makes a knot-hungry heat-ridden fool of himself by dropping his keys and bumping into furniture and tripping on the way up the stairs and to his bedroom, but Marco still manages to look at him with lust when they fall onto the bed.

Marco gives him a kiss, a hard and rough and hungry show of power that leaves Mario panting and so overcome with desire, with raw need, that he feels like he can come just from this. Warm fingers trail down his neck, to his collarbone, light and teasing, and Mario shudders before he can help it. His alpha is so close, much too fucking close, that Mario can see all the individual hairs of his beard and his pretty, long eyelashes and the brownish spots in his eyes.

So Mario loses it, completely and for good. He grabs Marco’s shirt and tears it open, sending buttons scattering across the bed and on the floor.

“Someone is eager.”

The bastard is smirking at Mario, makes fun of his heat, Mario hates him so much for it. “Fuck you.”

“Hm, I don’t think so.”

Yeah, Mario doesn’t either. Knowing that the battle for control has been lost even before it started, Mario turns his head to the side and bares his neck, exposes himself. Marco doesn’t waste any time and takes advantage of it, licks and sucks on the skin before he grabs Mario’s hair and _bites_. The yelp breaking out of Mario is inevitable and there’s more pain than lust in it. This is not a normal bite, fuck, this is a mating bite. _‘You’re mine. Don’t ever forget that’_ it says. Wasn’t it enough once, the first time they bonded, Marco really has to do it again?

Mario whimpers and closes his eyes, lets Marco undress him and get rid of his own clothes in silence, his pheromones paralyze him momentarily. There’s a hand on his abs, trailing down until it curls around his already dripping cock.

“Gonna make all those pretty sounds I like?”

It’s a rhetorical question of course, but Mario nods, so eager to reply to his alpha, the commanding voice that would be able to get him off on its own. The hand moves and squeezes, slowly up and down his length, dragging desperate moans out of Mario’s mouth.

“That’s it, babe, let it out.” Marco murmurs and kisses him again, this time more gently to ease the pain the bite has caused.

A second later there’re fingers pressing to his entrance, sliding in carefully to make sure he’s ready for his alpha. God, those talented fingers, they should be registered as weapons. Mario wants to say he has never been more ready in his entire life, but his lips only part around another moan, one that Marco obviously finds so amusing that he snickers.

“Please.” Mario begs in the most pitiful voice he has ever heard coming out of his own mouth. “I want you, please don’t tease.”

Even just the slightest touch makes slick leak from his hole, staining the fabric of the sheets under him, he’s so fucking gone. “I need your knot, Marco.”

This is the moment. This is the moment, he is sure, that his alpha will take him and fuck him full of cum. And he’s not wrong, Marco never denies him anything he needs. The fingers leave and Marco turns him over, ushers him to move onto his hands and knees. And soon enough he replaces the digits with his cock, rigid and throbbing and so good for an omega to take. Mario lets out a long moan at the feeling of being stretched and filled, too loud for the garden city, but now he wouldn’t care even if the entire neighbourhood heard him.

There’s a split second of stillness, a moment filled with anticipation, then Marco moves and Mario feels like flying towards the edge of a cliff.

"Oh fuck yes, so good, Mario.” Marco groans, gripping his hips a little too hard for comfort, but Mario loves it, he wants to be roughened up. “God, just look at you."

The only thing Mario doesn’t like in this position that he can’t see the tattoos, the words, patterns, thick lines and delicate swirls, jumping from the tension in Marco’s muscles.Marco doesn’t bother taking it slow. He takes Mario hard, fucking into him, stroke after stroke until the omega cries out from the pleasure. He gasps, and Marco keeps giving it to him again and again until there’s nothing left but the delicious pounding.

“You’re so open for me, so wet. Just waiting for my knot, aren’t you?” The effects of the heat are intense now, but Mario loves every fucking minute of it when Marco’s speaking to him in that deep growling.

“You want to take it, right?” An arm slides around Mario’s waist and Marco grabs his cock, giving him the last push towards the overwhelming ecstasy. “My knot, my pups.”

Mario wants to agree, _yeah, yeah, only yours_ , but his ability to speak has gone the moment Marco entered him.

“Come.” Marco orders, voice low and raspy from his passion. “Come for me.”

And Mario does, his body jerking with the need to obey his alpha, dick twitching as he paints the sheets with sticky white stripes.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Marco grunts right before he comes too, hips stuttering minutely as he rides out his orgasm. Mario feels the warmth filling him, sating the fiery beast of his heat, as his own waves stop running through him, leaving him exhausted and limp under his mate.

The knot has swelled to fullness, but Mario barely feels it, he’s so tired. He had a rough day after all. Marco turns them to lie on their sides, a bit more comfortable till they are stuck together. He hums against Mario’s neck, sends vibrations of contentedness through his omega’s body.

They lie peacefully for what feels like hours and Mario almost falls asleep to the gentle kisses Marco presses to his shoulder, almost misses the words when his alpha speaks up.

“I’m so sorry, Mario, about what I’ve said on the phone. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“Neither did I.” Mario whispers, not capable of anything else. “Sorry, Marco, for trying to break up with you.”

“It’s okay. I was a shitty mate.” Well, Mario can’t argue with that.

“But you’ve made up for it.” He says instead and sighs. “Pretty well.”

Marco laughs and Mario joins him in relief. They are good again.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff :)

 

 

It’s half past two in the morning and Mario has just finished making his second bread. He wanted to bake ever since they arrived home from their date night, but Marco’s kitchen is a nuclear catastrophe. He started cleaning it, but Marco decided after half an hour that the detergents would ruin Mario’s wonderful scent and carried him into bed. They had sex and Mario fell asleep after it, then woke up in the middle of the night with the urgent need to finish what he has started in the kitchen.

So now he’s here, sitting on a stool and admiring his perfect breads and cookies. He hates that he can’t play football for a good while because of the injury he picked up during a friendly last week, but it has its advantages too. Most importantly he can spend the last two weeks of July with Marco in Dortmund.

He has arrived a few days ago and almost fainted from the sight of Marco’s apartment. He immediately asked for the vacuum cleaner and thoroughly scolded his alpha for being _that_ lazy, fuck, they could have buried the entire team under the dust in the flat. At least that’s how Mario saw it, because Marco contradicted of course. Mario has managed to tidy most of the rooms, save for the bathroom and a side room that Marco doesn’t use, and even bought a few things that he missed from the place.

For example, Marco didn’t have enough pillows. So on their second day the alpha came back from practice to find a dozen new, colourful cushions on the couch and Mario reading a book amongst them. He flipped out and they had a short quarrel, but in the end Mario was allowed to keep his precious pillows because he said he needed them. Mario smiles at the thought that sometimes even the omegas can have some control over their alphas, they just have to find the right way to use it.

The kitchen timer buzzes, so Mario limps over to the oven and turns it off, pulls out the last bunch of chocolate chips. They will be perfect for a delicious breakfast in bed with his mate, or just simply for a little snack between meals. The sleepiness eventually catches up with him, so after a few minutes of waiting he packs everything into boxes and makes his way back to the bedroom, yawning with half-closed eyes.

Marco is snoring on the bed, flat on his stomach, and Mario can’t help, but roll his eyes, because Marco’s bare ass is pretty much on display and the alpha’s totally not bothered by it. Usually he would leave it like that because if Marco wants to catch a cold, then be it, but now… Mario has this sudden instinct to protect his loved one, to take care of him and guard his health.

So when he slides back under the duvet, Mario pulls it over both of them and carefully tucks it in around Marco’s shoulder. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep and drift into his recurrent dream about the kindergarten he once visited during some charity event and the dozens of cute pups. He wakes up – half an hour later according to the clock on the bedside table – to find Marco on top of him, mouthing on his shoulder.

 “Honey, what are you doing?” Mario asks, still dizzy from sleep.

“You smell like cookies.” Marco answers as if it was enough of an explanation.

“So?”

The alpha slides down on the bed and presses a wet kiss to Mario’s lower stomach. “So I decided I’m up to a sweet breakfast today.”

“Not that I’m complaining” Mario starts weakly when Marco sucks a hickey above his hipbone. “but it’s just four in the morning.”

“Then what were you doing up?”

“Baking.”

“Baking.” Marco looks up and frowns at Mario, before sitting back on his heels. His eyes observe the room, obviously searching for something. “Where are my trousers from last night?”

“In the washing machine. Like your other clothes you’ve thrown away. You’re so untidy, there’re dirty socks all around the apartment.”

Marco bites into his lower lip and stares at Mario’s tummy. “You have gained some weight in the last month, right?”

“Marco!” Mario hisses and raises his head to glare at him. “Don’t be an asshole.”

When Marco just keeps staring, he sighs and drops his head back to the pillow. “Yes, sadly I did. Dunno why though, I didn’t eat more and”

“Oh Sunny” Marco cuts him off and spreads his palm on Mario’s stomach. Even though Mario likes the warmth of it, that tone deeply scares him. “I think you’re…”

“I’m what?”

Marco gulps and runs a hand through his hair. “Pregnant.”

“What? No.” _No, no, no, that’s not possible._ “I’ve only been with you.”

That earns a hard look from Marco. “Since I’m your alpha, it would be quite a surprise if you hooked up with somebody else.”

“But I couldn’t get pregnant from you.” _Don’t look at me like you don’t understand, idiot._ “Cause you’re taking those pills or whatever.”

“I thought _you_ are the one who’s taking pills.”

Mario blushes “I figured I don’t need them when you’re not fertile.”

“So I figured the same.”

Mario feels his heartbeat quicken until it’s so fast he fears his heart will burst out of his chest. This can’t be real.

“Your last heat was after the Champions League…”

Yeah, it was and they spent it together, almost three months ago. And Marco knotted him. Mario has thrown out his pills before. _Oh fuck_.

“Damnit, everything clicks. Your nesting in the last few days, the pillows, cleaning, the fucking cookies… Your sudden obsession with fish, Sunny, you always hated fish… We were so stupid.”

Mario can’t reply to Marco, his eyes has started watering and now he only sees the blurry silhouette of his mate as he reaches out and takes his hand.

 

 

Around eight, they call a physician. Some friend of a friend of Marco’s friends, who handles things discreetly. He offers to examine Mario immediately, so it’s not even nine and they are already sitting on a comfortable couch in the waiting room of a private hospital. A nurse has approached them a few minutes ago and said the doctor will be there in a minute.

Mario leans into Marco. They didn’t speak much after the terrifying realisation, but now he needs Marco to speak to him, some kind of reassurance, a confirmation that his alpha’s not mad at him. It should have been Mario’s task to be careful with heats and he failed. Gloriously.

A smiling man in white cloak is coming in their direction and Mario nuzzles Marco’s shoulder, _just a little ‘hush’, please,_ but he only gets a big sigh. They stand up and greet the guy and there’s some small talk as well, but Mario comprehends none of it, not even the doctor’s name. He feels like throwing up, the sterilized hospital stench is nauseating.

Marco leads him, tugs him away by the hand, Mario doesn’t know where exactly, he only grips those warm fingers and trusts in his alpha to make him feel safe again. They tell him to lie down on a bed and he obeys without a second thought, that’s just what he is, an ever so compliant omega.

His shirt is pulled up and there’s something wet, somebody rubs it over his skin. And then Marco’s hand squeezes, hard.

“Mr. Götze.” The doctor calls out for him and he snaps out of his trance, looks where the man’s finger points. A screen. A monitor, with inapprehensible data and numbers on it and… That’s a pup, that’s clearly a little baby. Mario’s, it’s inside of him and… No, there are _two._

“Congratulations, they are twins.”

“Twins.” Marco croaks out and Mario doesn’t need a look to know he’s close to fainting.

“The pregnancy is around the eleventh week.”

“Exactly.” Mario’s voice sounds alien to himself. “It’s exactly the eleventh week.”

The physician keeps smiling and babbling about how healthy Mario is and other necessary examinations are needed and that they should have come a lot sooner and so on. But Mario feels how Marco’s hand gets sweaty in his, the way he trembles once in a while and… Mario hates himself for even asking the question, but Marco’s obviously too overwhelmed to help in this.

“Doctor, is…” Mario has to swallow, for the lump in his throat or the welling tears, he doesn’t know. “Is an abortion possible?”

The smile turns sad on the other man’s face as he sighs and nods. “Until the twelfth week. We do abortions here, in this hospital too, of course in absolute discretion.”

Finally Mario dares to look at Marco, who is staring at the ground with his free hand covering his mouth. The doctor wipes Mario’s stomach and turns off the ultrasound before standing up.

“I give you some time so you can talk about it.” He says and leaves the room.

In the moment when the door is closed, Mario breaks. The sobs are unstoppably coming out of him and he only knows from the sudden strengthening of the alpha scent that Marco has taken him into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Marco.” He whimpers and fists his hands in Marco’s shirt. “I’ve been a bad mate, a failure, I should have been more careful.”

“No, no, no, Sunny, this is my fault as well, if not only mine. I should have asked you before… before knotting.”

“Please don’t leave me.” Mario cries. “You can be mad, but please stay. I need you.”

It takes him by surprise when Marco kisses him, claiming him in a press of lips against lips, before cupping his face with his hands.

“I’m your alpha. Remember? You are mine, it’s my duty, my aim to take care of you.”

Mario lets out a pathetic little hiccup. “You don’t want to leave?” Marco shakes his head with a faint smile.

“But” Mario has to take a big breath, he needs courage to say this. “I want to keep them.”

“You do?” Marco’s expression turns incredulous, but he still doesn’t drop his hands. “What about… what about football?”

“You know, I’m injured.” Now that he has said it, the whole plan sounds a lot better to Mario. “What if… what if the injury doesn’t get better for a while?”

The corner of Marco’s mouth trembles. “Half a year, Sunny?”

Mario shrugs. “It was a nasty tackle.” In the next moment he finds himself wrapped up in his mate’s arms, held so tight that it's close to suffocating. “You are not mad?”

“Mad?” Marco pulls away and flashes his crooked smile. “Why would I be, love?  You have just decided that I will have two more chubby faced cuties to take care of beside you…”

_Oh, the mocking bastard._

“Thank you.” Mario says and kisses the smug smile off the alpha’s face. “I love you.”

Marco bumps their noses together. “I love you too.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is love. ;)


End file.
